“Last call, flight two-zero-two, direct from Chicago to Barcelona.”

I stared at my ticket, eyes unfocused. What did it even matter anymore? Every guy I dated was a total dick. That was just my fate in life: to date dicks. For me, “the one” was an elusive myth best relegated to corny rom-coms. Why did I even care if I went to Barcelona?

Even if I met another guy, he’d probably cheat on me.

Sorry. I know I probably sound bitter. But after you walk in on your boyfriend getting blown by his manager at the bar where he works, you go into a bit of a phase, to put it lightly.

“Miss, excuse me, Miss?” a polite but firm voice spoke in front of me.

I shook myself out of my daze. “Yes?”

“Your ticket. It’s for Barcelona. This is the last call. Are you going to board?”

I swallowed, turned my chin up, and took a deep breath. “Yes. I’m boarding.”

The attendant took my ticket, scanned it, and handed it back to me with a puzzled look.

“Good, the doors will be closing as soon as you get on.”

On the flight, I waltzed past the first class section to the back of the plane. A young girl stopped me before I reached my seat, reaching out her arm to mine.

“Amy!” she exclaimed. A smile broached my face. The adorable creature was maybe eight years old, and sat next to her mom.

“Jenna! I didn’t think I would see you again.”

“I knew I would see you again,” she responded. Her dimples shown deeply when she smiled.

I blushed. I’d only read to her in Spanish for ten minutes while we were waiting to board the plane. I forgot how much even the smallest gestures meant to little kids sometimes.

“Thanks for reading me that book in Spanish. I feel better about going to Barcelona now.”

I laughed. “It’s no big deal. Trust me.”

“How do you know Spanish though?” she put her arm on me and furrowed her brow. “You’re American.”

Her mom smiled at me. I didn’t feel the need to explain to this first time traveler that Spanish was a language spoken by at least sixty million Americans. She’d learn with time. Her world was still small.

I put my hand on the little girl’s shoulder. “I lived in Spain when I was in college, honey. You can learn any language you want, no matter what. You just have to study hard and not give up.”

“Really?” Her eyes bubbled up. “Can I? Mom, can I even learn Spanish if I want?”

Her mom looked a little surprised at the question. “Of course you can, honey.”

The flight attendant was staring me down, surely wishing I would take my seat. “I’m going to head to my seat in the back, have a safe flight Jenna!”

“Bye Amy!”

Her voice was so bubbly, it put a smile on my face as I found my seat toward the back of the airplane. I found my window seat and stared out onto the runway as the attendants ran through the safety protocol.

Thinking about how much I’d loved reading to Jenna in the airport, my mind drifted to kids.

I loved them, but I wasn’t ready for them. Maybe someday. Not today. Let’s be honest, at the rate I was going, I was probably not ever going to have a stable, lasting boyfriend to raise a family with. My last cheating boyfriend was only the latest in years of failed relationships. Although the sports marketing company that my coworker Andrea and I founded was booming, my personal life was in shambles.

I smirked slightly, finding a little solace in the fact that, somewhere, deep in my heart, I knew I didn’t want to be with my ex. He was an okay guy--don’t get me wrong. But real talk, he was barely an inch taller than me, little Amy. I’m just over five feet. And he didn’t like to read! What kind of guy says no to books?!

We lifted off the ground in Chicago and smoothly sailed into the sky above. After we leveled out, the staff came by asking if we wanted anything to drink.

“Gin and Tonic please.” The stewardess moved swiftly to dole me out my drink. The guy next to me leaned out of the way and let her hand the plastic cup to me.

I took a sip, and then I took another longer sip through my straw. I was on an empty stomach, so the buzz hit me in a few minutes. It felt good.

I swept  my brown hair behind my head and stuck my forehead against the cold airplane window of the jumbo jet, looking out into the black of the night sky.

Through the haze of my buzz, I thought about a man I used to know. He was the one I pushed away years ago, because I was afraid he’d become the same as all the other crappy men in my life.

“Chandler, where are you now?” I said aloud. I’d been just a girl when I met him--barely twenty. Now I was five years older and had my own company. Yet still, when I fantasized and let my mind drift off about who I’d love to have kids with, his frame popped into the picture.

I wondered if I would ever see him again. Sure, he was an asshole like all the others. But I’d never met a man quite as honest as him or as sexy.

A surge of adrenaline came over me just thinking about him. I hadn’t been back to Barcelona in five years. I doubted he ever even thought of me anymore. I was probably just another notch on his belt--except I was one he never got to mark off.

Yet something bothered me about the way we’d left our friendship. I never really gave him a chance to prove himself. Because wherever Chandler went, he was known for leaving a trail of broken hearts. As good of a lover as he was, the man never committed. Not to anyone. What would make me so special that I could tame him?

I ordered another Gin and Tonic from the stewardess when she came back, sank back into my chair, and closed my eyes. My memory drifted to when I’d first met him, and how my silly crush on him had begun.